


No Accounting For Taste

by DrowningByDegrees



Series: Home is Where We Make It [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Banter, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Silly, Steve Rogers has terrible taste in music, The things Bucky puts up with, XD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-19
Updated: 2017-11-19
Packaged: 2019-02-04 11:05:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12769695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrowningByDegrees/pseuds/DrowningByDegrees
Summary: Bucky considered figuring out which apartment occupant had decided this was a completely necessary greeting, only they hadn’t even finished moving in yet, and he really,reallydidn’t want to be that neighbor.





	No Accounting For Taste

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lucifuge5](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lucifuge5/gifts).



> One of my auctions for the [ Fandom Loves Puerto Rico](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/FandomLovesPuertoRico) event was a series of drabbles, won by [Lucifuge5](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lucifuge5). They asked for domestic, slice of life sorts of things. This is part of a series of 5 drabbles which can all be read independently, but are in the same story line and are posted linearly.

Moving meant a lot of things. It was the start of something new and wonderful, a home that was theirs to build together. Of course, in the moment, it meant piles of boxes everywhere and too many people milling around their apartment. Much as he appreciated the help, Bucky jumped at the chance to leave and go pick up pizza. 

It wasn’t a long trip, but it was exactly what Bucky needed. Fresh air and a little space, and the tension that came with being surrounded by so much clutter and bustling around faded to nothing. Relaxed, and carrying a stack of pizza boxes, Bucky headed back to their new home. 

He’d barely stepped off the elevator when he heard it, a series of muffled electronic sounds through someone’s apartment wall. It was accompanied by the subtle thrum of someone’s base, Bucky swore he could feel through the floor, though that was probably an exaggeration. Bucky considered figuring out which apartment occupant had decided this was a completely necessary greeting, only they hadn’t even finished moving in yet, and he really, _really_ didn’t want to be that neighbor. Besides, he had pizza. 

Bucky headed down the hall, noticing the sound grew louder. He groaned under his breath. Not only did someone have terrible taste in music (assuming you could call the cacophony of synthesizer squeals music), but they just _had_ to be the next door neighbor. Reminding himself he was not going to be that person, Bucky kept walking, shifting the pizza boxes to one arm as he neared the door. 

Oh. Oh _no_. Even before Bucky’s hand reached the handle, he realized the sound was coming from the other side of the door. It was louder, an insistent rhythm that was better suited to a rave than to their mess of an apartment. If the song itself wasn’t ridiculous enough, now they really were the obnoxious neighbors. 

“What is that _noise_?” Bucky demanded as soon as he’d opened the door. He’d hoped for some helpful acquaintance to blame for said noise, but no such luck. Even Clint and Sam were nowhere to be seen. There was just Steve, merrily assembling a bookcase, and whatever eldritch horror was crawling out of the speakers. 

Steve didn’t seem to have heard Bucky’s question, but he glanced up eventually, flashing a blissfully unaware smile as he got up and turned down the speakers. “Clint and Sam are returning the moving truck.”

“That’s… cool, but not what I asked,” Bucky replied. He set down the pizzas on a haphazard stack of boxes and jabbed his finger in the direction of the speakers. “What the hell is that?”

“Skrillex,” Steve replied, as if that somehow explained everything. 

Bucky huffed as he opened one of the pizza boxes. He wasn’t about to let it get cold while they waited for their friends. “What the hell is a skrillex?”

“Skrillex is the band that was playing,” Steve explained, though Bucky wasn’t sure if his explanation could be trusted. Clearly something was skewed, calling anyone associated with that nonsense a band. 

“Well, I could hear them out by the elevators,” Bucky complained between bites of pizza. He was ever so slightly mollified by the cringe that pulled from Steve. 

“Really? I must’ve gotten carried away,” Steve explained, gesturing haphazardly in a decidedly endearing sort of way. “I like that song, so I turned it up.”

Bucky nearly choked on his pizza. “That? That is not a song, Steve Rogers. That was an assault on my eardrums.”

“It’s art. It’s not my fault you don’t appreciate it,” Steve countered, leaning over to adjust the volume. 

“Oh. Oh no,” Bucky started, but the screechy techno was already filling the room again. 

Steve grinned up at Bucky from where he was screwing the back of the bookcase together. “Come on. Just give it a listen.”

“I already did. The whole way from the elevator, remember?” Bucky pointed out, starting weave around the boxes to get to the speaker. He might have kept complaining. Bucky had every intention of continuing to complain, in fact, only he was interrupted by a knock at the door. Glaring at Steve over his shoulder, Bucky stepped closer to the door to open it. “Good going. Someone probably called the office on us.” 

“Excuse me. Would you mind-” the woman in the hall started as soon as Bucky opened the door. That was about the time she lifted her head, and in the moment, they both must have looked completely ridiculous. Bucky could feel his cheeks going warm and flushed in embarrassment, and the woman’s eyes went round as saucers when she saw his face. “-um.”

“I’m so sorry,” Bucky scrambled to apologize. He jerked his thumb back in Steve’s direction. “He’s an idiot.”

“What? No! It’s, um. It’s fine. I didn’t know that you two were…” the woman floundered, grasping for words that didn’t seem like they were going to come. It made Bucky feel even worse. Steve was awfully lucky the couch hadn’t come yet, or Bucky might have made him sleep on it. 

“A couple?” Bucky finished, rubbing at the back of his neck. He was anxious to get this entire awkward doorway conversation over with. 

“What? I didn’t realize.” Bucky hadn’t thought it was possible for the woman’s eyes to get any wider, but there they were, huge and round and stunned. “My neighbors. I didn’t know you were moving in.”

Bucky very much wanted to melt through the floor. He wasn’t really sure what was said after that, other than him apologizing profusely for the noise, and Steve eventually putting down the screwdriver to join him at the threshold of the apartment. The door was closed and Bucky’s back was pressed against it before he realized he hadn’t even gotten her name. 

“Sorry!” To Steve’s credit, he did look terribly apologetic. It was an oddly charming sort of expression, his brows knit in concern. Just because it was hard to be mad at that face didn’t mean Bucky was letting Steve live it down, though.

“You’re on the own saving the world, Steve. I can never leave the apartment again.” Was that too dramatic? Bucky remembered the sorry excuse for music Steve had been blaring and decided no. No, it was not.

“I’m not sure that helps if they know you live here…” Despite his clear embarrassment, Steve’s mouth quirked slightly upward. 

“Is it too late to get out of the lease? I could just leave you alone with this.” Whatever else Bucky might have threatened was cut short by the door swinging open, right into his back. 

“So,” Clint started as Sam followed him through the door. “I met your neighbor.”

That was a perfectly normal thing to say, but Bucky didn’t like the sound of it at all. “Yeah. And?”

Sam shook his head, already fighting a smile Bucky was sure didn’t mean anything good. “By ‘met your neighbor’ Clint means she was walking into the elevator on the phone. Something about the Winter Soldier and his boyfriend and dance party music?”

“It’s dubstep,” Steve cut in. 

“Ooh, pizza.” Clint made a beeline for the pile of boxes. 

Bucky sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Nope. Never leaving again.”

“You can’t be seriously worried about the neighbor knowing you two are an item. It’s not exactly a secret,” Sam pointed out. 

“What? No. I’m worried about the fact that the neighbor knows there are superheroes living next door who terrorize the apartment building with loud, annoying music.” Bucky glowered at Steve. 

“Sorry!” Steve ducked his head.

“It could be worse,” Clint offered around a mouthful of cheese and pepperoni. “It could’ve been polka?”

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me on my [personal](http://www.drowningbydegrees.tumblr.com) or [art/fic](http://www.drowningbydegrees-fanworks.tumblr.com) Tumblr!


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